Cologne
by xXACCEBXx
Summary: You ask me not to wear cologne. She’ll know you’ve been with me alone. And you can’t take our secret home, so you ask me not to wear cologne. Meant for Loe, but no names.


**I am addicted to this song by Dolly Parton called Cologne. It is easily YouTube accessible and I hope you'll listen to it. Ever the optimist, I managed to spin it into something optimistic. The pairing in this is shady. It was written with Lilly and Joe in mind, but he is never mentioned by name, and hers is only mentioned once. So, if you're not a fan of that pairing, you can enjoy it too. Haha, celebration for the end of midterms! Review! And seriously, listen to the song.**

**-**

**Cologne**

I take the cap of the fragile bottle and breathe the scent deep into my lungs. It's been forever since that smell has graced my nostrils, taunting me with the secrets it holds.

He told me not to wear it. The one thing he can't wipe away. That's all he ever wants afterwards, not my love, my devotion. He just wants a blank slate. He wants to be pure when he faces her, her and her questions.

I try not to remember her, though I can't hate her. I can understand how someone could fall for him, obviously, because I fell for him myself.

I re-cap the bottle, knowing he won't want the smell lingering in the room. I pull up the shoulder of my robe, the slithery one that he likes, but it offers no warmth.

My cell phone buzzes on the table, alerting me that he is on his way. My heart glitters with the hope of a teenage girl, and butterfly's flutter through my abdomen.

I stare in the mirror, and my eyes show that teenager, the one that fell so deeply in love with a boy who could care less. Well, he does care for me, somewhat anyway, for how long he's kept this affair going. I look away from the mirror, ashamed at what I've become.

My fingertips take up ideas of their own and start to unscrew the cap of the bottle again, but I stop them before they get much farther. This would be enough to set him off, enough to make him leave for good, and for the life of me, I couldn't do it.

No matter how clandestine our meetings were, I lived for them. He was mine, not permanently, but at least for a few hours he was mine. I had long given up on his plans to give her up for me. No matter how much I loved him, he loved her more. But I couldn't live without him.

I open the drawer and look at the Polaroid, his glowing face, his dark eyes. Even through the filmy layer of dust, I can see the glint in his eyes, the laughter in his smile. Every time I look at it, I fall a little more in love with him.

I close my eyes and try to search my heart. I will never have a future with him, he will never leave her. But when I think of life with him, I start to drown in a sea of regret.

I hear the steps heavy in the hall. They stop in front of the door and the knob starts to turn. I stare one more time at the bottle, the reflection of my eyes in its amber glow, and I look at his looming shadow in the doorway. I take a haggard breath before catching his eyes, seeing that glint once more.

My fingers clench around the bottle once more, and then they release. The bottle shatters, the dark smell engulfs the room, and I can't be ashamed. He stares at me, struck by what had just happened.

I stood up to go over to him, but I find myself unable to move as he comes over to me. I try to look away as his eyes bear down on me. An uncontrollable tear rolls down my face before I can stop it. I pray he doesn't notice, but his hand wraps around the side of my neck as he grazes the tear away with him thumb.

My breathing is sporadic as he starts to lean toward me, his breath hot on my face as the longest four seconds of my life go by, ending in the earth-shattering bliss of his lips on mine. Even with the short duration, I can feel the hunger in his touch. He pulls back, much sooner than he needs to, and my heart aches.

He searches my eyes and sees it there. The dark depths hold mine for another second, before moving down to the sleeve of my silky robe. It has slipped and my bare shoulder is out in the open. I expect him to tear it away like he usually does, but instead he leans down and plants a soft kiss there. His arms wrap around my waist and he lays his head in the crook of my neck like a child.

He stays there for a few minutes, as the strength of the spilled cologne and the love for the man in my arms starts to overpower me. Without a word, he straightens and kisses me softly on the corner of my lips, which part at his touch. His eyes pour into mine and I can see that they've changed.

His silhouette pauses in the doorway, looking back at me, before he leaves. His steps on the stairs are the only sound. I back up until I feel the bed against the back of my knees and I collapse. It's over. It has to be.

I try to talk myself out of the tears that are about to fall. He never truly loved me anyway. I deserve more than half a man, and so does she. I miss wearing cologne…

The smell is starting to seep into my conscious. It will forever remind me of this night and all I lost. I intend to clean it up, but instead I stare at the ceiling, absorbed in self pity.

I don't doubt that I'll get over him. I have to. But it'll take time. I loved him so…

-

I wake up to the light streaming through my curtains. I had fallen asleep. The tinge of the sweet scent lingers, and I remember what happened last night. I press my hand to my forehead, an instant migraine hitting my temple.

But then I realize something. I'm not alone. I roll over, away from the light of the early afternoon, and immediately my eyes were drawn to his. Was I dead? He was supposed to have left me forever. Why was he here?

"Good afternoon," he said, pulling me closer. I wanted to fall into his arms, with all my heart, but I forced myself to resist.

"You can't be here. She'll ask where you were. I only get you at night. I know that. Well, I used to. But now it has to be different…"

"You're right. It does. That's why I told her about us, and how much I loved you, and how she shouldn't have to live with someone who couldn't love her as much as she deserved. She's filing the papers now."

"You're getting divorced. For me? After what I did last night? I could have screwed up your marriage!"

"What marriage? When I told her about you, she said that she had a lover too. A few actually…We were falling apart. And in the process, I realized how much I love you, have always loved you…"

"You love me?"

"More than anything," he said, as he stroked my cheek. "What do you think I was in it for? The sex?"

"I take offense to that. I just thought I was a tool. Until last night, I hadn't minded. Just having part of you was enough. But something changed. I couldn't even look at my reflection…"

"I'm sorry, so sorry I ever made you feel that way. And you know I didn't mean it that way. You are as good in bed as you are here," he said, pressing his palm to my heart then leaning close to my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck. "And you are excellent in bed."

I tried to recover as he managed to run his lips along my jaw and down to my collarbone, leaving phantom kisses wherever they fell.

"I do have one question," I say in a whisper, unable to control the primal instincts he was forcing on me.

"Anything," he said, moving back up to my jaw.

I tried not to moan. I have to ask him. It's not like this was a no-strings-attached relationship anymore. "What happened last night?"

I know it's was a vague question, one that he may not understand, but he did anyway. I could tell when he pulled away from me, staring deep into my eyes.

"The cologne, it overpowered me. I couldn't pretend I didn't love you anymore. I couldn't keep pretending it was stupid lust. I realized I wanted to spend my life with you, and not as my mistress. I want to marry you, Lilly."

My breath caught in her throat. Suddenly I feel a wave of responsibility, "But what about your family, your fans, the press…you'll destroy your reputation!"

"Do you love me?"

"Of course! But—" he cut me off with a single finger against me lips.

"Then none of it matters, does it?"

It was all hypothetical. Of course it mattered. But I wasn't going to be the one to ruin the moment. He loves me.

I breathed in the smell of the spilled cologne and his aftershave. By the glint in his eyes, he smelled it too. I breathed it in deep, so deep tasting it, and I gave in to all the desire.

I crashed my lips onto his, and suddenly, none of it mattered. Our promiscuous past was gone. It was just him, me, and the tinge of spilled cologne.


End file.
